


Where the Heart Is

by eeveestho



Series: Yakulev Week 2015 [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Misgendering, past yaku/kuroo, trans male yaku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 22:50:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4367282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeveestho/pseuds/eeveestho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yaku was still learning what a family was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> yakulev week: day 4 - family

When Yaku turned 12, his mother gave him his first makeup kit. He didn’t care much about makeup -- or at all, really -- but he could tell it was expensive. The box was pearly white, with delicate inlaid gold script on the sides. From what he could tell, it was Italian. Maybe Spanish.

He smiled mechanically, thanked her for it, and took it upstairs to his room. He shoved it into his closet full of dusty dresses, closed the door, and didn’t open it again until his next birthday, when his mother would give him something else he would never use.

Yaku spent the rest of the day outside. He had used the side entrance, the one that the maids and cooks used to come in and out, so that his parents wouldn’t notice him leaving. He took a walk to the nearby convenience store, bought as much junk food as his weekly allowance would allow (which was still quite a lot), and gorged himself on it. He sat on the swings at the adjacent park, swinging softly, watching the world go by.

Later, at dinner, he told his mother that he wasn’t hungry, thank you. She smiled at him, proud of him for having a dainty stomach befitting a young lady of his station.

His father arrived home just as he was going upstairs to go to bed. Yaku glanced at him, but he didn’t look back. The door to his father’s study closed with a bang, and Yaku kept walking up the stairs, chastizing himself dully in his head for expecting a “Happy Birthday” from his father.

 

* * *

 

When Yaku turned 17, he watched his phone with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance as, just past midnight, it lit up and buzzed with messages from his friends. He flipped it open and saw that, while Kuroo had sent him no less than 9 text messages, each containing one character spelling out “happy birthday”, there were also less irritating ones from Kai and Kenma and Yamamoto and even Fukunaga (who, despite being on the same team with for four months, Yaku hadn’t had a proper conversation with yet), as well as his other teammates.

The text from the team captain said, “Sleep in tomorrow -- come to the last half of practice.”

Smiling, he turned his phone on silent and went to sleep, feeling a warm buzz in the pit of his stomach.

When he got to practice that next morning, feeling well-rested and light, he saw a brightly wrapped package sitting on the bench, as well as a half-eaten cake. Looking around, he saw that more than a few people had what looked suspiciously like chocolate crumbs around their mouths.

He opened up the presents (a few gift cards and horror movies, as well as an inexplicable 5 pound gummy bear from Yamamoto), and ate the cake with his teammates (who, now that they were on lunch break, all helped themselves to another slice). Then, bellies full, they went back to practice for the afternoon. It was summer vacation, but the Nekoma volleyball team’s practices continued on, harder than ever.

“Hey, do you wanna come over?” Kuroo asked later, grinning at him as they began to walk home together. “Make it a _really_ happy birthday?”

Yaku felt himself colour. “We’re not dating anymore, you know,” he hissed quietly, his eyes darting around, looking for eavesdropping passersby.

He shrugged. “I know. I’m okay with that if you are.”

“...Yeah, okay.”

When Yaku came gasping and panting into Kuroo’s mouth later, he thought hazily that this might have been the best birthday present he had ever gotten.

 

* * *

 

When Yaku turned 21, it was a Saturday and he intended to spend it asleep in bed. He did make a slight miscalculation, however, in the fact that he was not in his dorm room, as it was summer vacation, but instead in his boyfriend’s bedroom, in his family’s house.

When he did wake up, it was not in the usual manner, with Lev’s lanky limbs leeching the life from his lungs, but instead, rather serenely. The bed was empty, and if not for the collage on the opposite wall of pictures of Lev, Inuoka, and Shibayama, he might have thought that he was in his dorm room.

Yaku pulled himself from his bed, muscles stiff, skin damp with sweat. A quick glance around the room didn’t reveal Lev’s whereabouts. Checking the bathroom down the hall didn’t yield any results, either. He walked downstairs, wondering exactly how late he had slept, and immediately was startled by what felt like three dozen party poppers going off in his face.

“Happy birthday!!”

When the confetti cleared and his heart stopped, Yaku saw the Haibas -- all of them, even Natalia and Viktor -- assembled at the bottom of the stairs, grinning the same hereditary grin up at him.

Mr Haiba was holding a huge chocolate cake with red piped icing reading out “Happy 21st Birthday, Yaku” in what he recognized as Mrs Haiba’s handwriting. All the other Haibas were holding presents in various wrapping papers -- Dina’s was literally just in a Starbucks bag taped shut -- all, unmistakeably, for him.

Yaku would later blame his tears on the shock from being surprised by the party poppers, and everyone would pretend to agree with him.

Contrary to his plans to sleep his birthday away, Yaku spent the day with the Haibas, watching stupid movies and eating cake and junk food.

Yaku was looking down with a little grin at a pair of cufflinks Ivanya had gotten him -- he had told her that he only had one pair, and he hated them because they were stolen from his father -- when he realized that there was one present that was missing.

“Hey, I never got a present from you,” he said, looking up at Lev. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against Lev’s legs. His long fingers were tangled idly in Yaku’s hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.

Lev looked down at Yaku, surprised. Then, his face darkened a little, and a familiar, predatory grin flitted over his face. He leaned forward, bending nearly in half so his face was right next to Yaku’s. He whispered into his ear, his warm breath sending shivers down Yaku’s spine, “My present comes later.”

 

* * *

 

When Yaku turned 30, it was to the sound of his son shrieking happily.

Lev’s voice shushed him almost immediately. “Shhhh, Daddy is sleeping, you’ll wake him up!”

Yaku buried his smile into the pillow, and let himself bask in this perfect moment for a few seconds more. Then, he rolled out of bed, stretching his stiff joints with several pops, and shuffled out of their bedroom, towards the familiar giggles of his 2 year-old son.

“Yukio! Happy birthday!” he cooed, coming into the room and grinning at him. He beamed back at him with the same smile as Lev.

“Happy birthday, daddy!” he yelled back, running at him on his unsteady legs, colliding into his. He staggered slightly and laughed, bending down to pick him up and hug him tight.

What do you wanna do today, birthday boy?”

“I wanna go to the zoo!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Papa, do you wanna go to the zoo?” he asked Lev, looking over her shoulder at him. Yukio turned to look at him too. Yaku knew, without seeing his face, that he was giving Lev the most devastating puppydog eyes known to man. It was only fair that they were leveled at him, for once; he had inherited them from Lev, after alll.

He grinned at both of them. “Yeah, let’s go!”

Lev, who was already dressed, took over getting Yukio (who was squirmy at the best of times) ready, while Yaku went back to their bedroom to get ready. As he got dressed, he couldn’t stop smiling, thinking about the wonderful little boy in the next room who he got to spend every birthday from now on with.

He had been scared, two years ago, when the nurse had put the red-faced squirmy baby into his arms. He had been scared that he was going to screw this up, that he didn’t know enough about being a family to make a new one with this wriggly, fragile, wonderful child.

But Lev had just smiled at him, squeezed his shoulder, and said, “We get to make one together.”

Now, he knew that, as usual, Lev was right. Yaku had gotten a family for his birthday when he was 28, and now, he got to enjoy it every year.


End file.
